Life with 5 kids can be crazy. But I won’t have it any other way

This is a letter from a Singaporean to her husband of 13 years, Kelvin Kao, on their decision to have five children — now aged four to 12 — and the ups and downs in their parenting journey so far. You can read his corresponding letter to her here.

Hey babe,

I think it is safe to say that we will not forget these past few months in a hurry.

What a ride it has been for us - homebound with five kids, attempting to juggle home-based learning and telecommuting as Singapore battled the Covid-19 crisis.

Understandably, there were a lot of toes getting stepped on at home, on top of raging cabin fever. But as one week rolled into another, I grew fond of having everyone at home all the time.

We found time for mid-morning dance party breaks and for building forts in the living room and to watch the kids practise leapfrogging.

This felt like an opportunity to step back from the usual routines and experience life a little differently.

When we got married 13 years ago, I didn’t think we’d end up with five kids. Sure, I did tell you that I wanted to have seven kids when we were dating, but then there was a time where I also wanted to have a unicorn.

People who learn that we have five kids are often incredulous. “What? FIVE??” Their follow up question is usually “Why?” and I never quite know how to respond. How do I succinctly sum up this questionable life decision in a few words?

“Yeah, we really like kids,” I’d sometimes say, as if they were a Hello Kitty collection.

Other times, I’d go with “kids are so adorable” but then as they rightly point out, so are pet rocks.

I get it. The idea of having a child — let alone five — is daunting.

Moms are in for a world of pain the moment they discover that they’re having a baby.

For me, the first trimester of morning sickness, constant exhaustion and heartburn was like a teaser of all the suffering to come in the next few decades.

Once I got used to some level of misery, along came labour, childbirth and episiotomies. Then as the baby arrived, I soon realised that all of that was just a prelude to real trauma.

When we brought Truett home from the hospital 12 years ago, and it started sinking in that our lives weren’t ever going to be the same (it was 2.30am and he had been screaming for hours), we looked at each other like crazed new parents and whispered: “What have we done?”

“Seriously babe, are we ready for this?” I asked, hoping for some reassurance.

“Not even a bit,” you replied. But then you held my hand and said: “We’ll figure it out together, and it’s going to be okay”.

I think that pretty much sums up our approach to parenting — figuring it out. We weren’t ready for each of our kids, and I suppose that’s what makes each new experience an adventure.

We weren’t ready for precocious toddlers or primary schoolers or angsty preteens, but with each new step, we found ourselves learning how to be better at this.

In my journey to figuring out the kind of mom I wanted to be, I had to find out what kind of mom I wasn’t.

I started out trying to be Fun Mom whose kids would have the best childhood filled with fun activities. Playdates! Movie nights! Sleepovers! Spontaneous trips to the beach! Elaborate crafty projects!

I soon discovered that I do not possess the temperament to be a mom who has fun all the time.

I am at best 20 per cent Fun Mom and 80 per cent I Can’t Even Mom.

For a brief moment, I tried to be Instagram Mom. But it was hard. You need to be a photographer, stylist, set designer and mom all at once.

One time, I dressed Kirsten in her prettiest dress and brought her to the playground at exactly 6pm to catch that perfect golden light and she HATED it.

Not only did she have zero fun because the dress restricted her movement, but I ended up with photos of a miserable baby who kept yanking at her dress.

When the kids started Primary School, I tried to be Tiger Mom. Tiger Mom is hardcore – she knows that tough love is necessary for her kids to become truly excellent.

I signed them up for tuition classes and bought the 10-year-series and drilled them on spelling and 听写 relentlessly.

During a particularly stressful afternoon of exam preparation where Truett was struggling with his Math paper, he quietly told me that he already knew he wouldn’t be as successful as Kirsten or Finn when he grew up.

“K is good at exams and Finn is super smart, he’s always getting full marks,” he said, looking at the unreasonably difficult question in front of him.

That was when I decided that Tiger Mom needed to take a chill pill. I told him that the truth is, I really didn’t care about his results — as long as he tried his best, it was absolutely good enough.

In this journey of figuring it out, I finally realised that I was just going to be the Mom That Shows Up.

I would still push them to be the best versions of themselves and we would have all kinds of fun.

If the light was right, yes, I would take that perfect Instagram photo, but above all, I would be the mom who is there for all of it.

Sometimes we joke about how life with five kids on a bad day provides such amazing material for a horror story — whiny toddlers (repeated exposure to toddler whines have been known to reduce one’s lifespan significantly), incessant pre-schoolers (the goal is to wear you down till you question your very existence), sullen squabbling tweenagers (a special kind of pain designed to test the limits of human endurance), spilt food (the third spill that morning), toys scattered everywhere, and parents who are barely keeping it together.

We’ve had quite a number of those days and being able to do this with you is the only reason I have even made it through.

From day one, you were all in with the night feeds and diaper changes. You taught them how to battle imaginary space monsters, read them everything from Dr Seuss to Neil Gaiman, tucked them into bed and held them when they were upset.

There are also the really good days. The days where we get to wake up to a mountain of kids suffocating us with baby kisses and group hugs.

That day when Theo paused in the middle of his dinner and announced “I really like this family” in his matter-of-fact manner because it is true and he needed to say it.

And that night on the bus when Truett was exhausted after a long day and Finn told him: “Just lean on me, gor gor, I don’t mind”, before patting him on the head and kissing him on the nose.

One recent weekend, all the kids were in the bedroom pretending to set up a donut store.

Truett and Kirsten were taking charge and giving instructions as usual; Finn was writing down orders from imaginary customers with a pencil stuck behind his ear; Theo was rolling dough far too enthusiastically; and Hayley was going around sprinkling sprinkles everywhere.

Not exactly a particularly special activity but they were delighted to be together and it showed on their faces. It was one of those moments where I realised that this is all I need to be happy.

Thirteen years ago, we were just a couple of kids who had no idea what life had in store for us.

We certainly weren’t prepared for it to be this crazy but what a journey it has been.

If I had to do it all over again, I’d choose this life with you in a heartbeat.

Daphne

ABOUT THE AUTHOR:

Daphne Ling, 38, and her husband Kelvin Kao, 40, are co-owners of a social media agency and a production studio. They got married in 2007.

This article is written in collaboration with Made For Families.